


you're the one thing I can't let go (I hate that for you)

by allsassnoclass (brightblackholes)



Series: Tie Me Down [2]
Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Angst, Friends With Benefits, Hopeful Ending, M/M, like it's resolved. but Alex is Alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightblackholes/pseuds/allsassnoclass
Summary: Maybe it makes Alex a bad friend, to keep asking him to do something destructive so he can feel a selfish sense of release until he starts craving him again, but they’d both be more miserable if they stopped, and there isn’t really another alternative.
Relationships: Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth
Series: Tie Me Down [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996828
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	you're the one thing I can't let go (I hate that for you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is a sequel, so please read the first fic in the series first! Things will make a bit more sense.
> 
> Title is from "I Hate That For You" by All Time Low, which I looped while writing this.

Sometimes, Alex thinks he’s too old for this.

He could tour for the rest of his life, probably. It’s a bit more tiring now, and being away from home is different now that he has carved out a safe-haven with his goats and chickens and acres of land, but nothing can beat the rush he gets from live music and meeting fans and screaming his lungs out every single night. He misses his own bed, and he doesn’t go out to party quite as much as he did when they were teenagers, feeling the effects more than he used to, but he wants to keep touring until he’s eighty. That’s not something he can outgrow.

He thinks he’s too old for this thing with him and Jack.

At this point, he can barely remember how it started, just that he was lonely and Jack was willing and after that he never learned how to stop. He knows that he should, that it can’t be healthy for either of them to continuously orbit until they crash together again, but every time he promises himself it’ll be the last, his fingers start itching for the feel of Jack’s skin. The relief of a night with him is never permanent, and he can never resist for long. There’s a longing hidden deep in his gut that he tries so hard to stifle, a wildfire that never burns down enough for the embers to cool.

It isn’t fair. Alex knows that Jack won’t initiate, even when he wants it, and Alex knows that it means something different to both of them. He’s never felt better than after a night with Jack, and Jack never feels worse.

Jack’s the one who keeps insisting that they continue, though. Maybe it makes Alex a bad friend, to keep asking him to do something destructive so he can feel a selfish sense of release until he starts craving him again, but they’d both be more miserable if they stopped, and there isn’t really another alternative.

Alex is the last person to arrive on the bus this morning, and soon he feels the familiar hum of the engine and pavement moving beneath his feet. He passes Zack and his bass tech in the front lounge, wrapped in a conversation about something too technical for this early in the morning, and throws his grab-bag below his bunk. The other curtains are closed, and Alex hoists himself into bed and gets as comfortable as he can. It’s a longer drive to the next location, and he wants to be awake for when they finally stop.

He tries to drift off, but the typical guilt after a night with Jack is starting to settle in. He keeps thinking about Jack’s jitters beforehand, and how there’s always a moment when he looks at Alex like he’s his whole world, and how he just stood there when Alex kissed him one last time before he left.

He shouldn’t have kissed him, not like that. That’s not part of what they do.

Eventually, he gets out his headphones and puts on a playlist with enough sound to distract him but that’s familiar enough for him to nap to. It takes a long time, but he manages to drop into a restless sleep.

-/-

Alex wakes again when the bus stops so the driver can stretch his legs. It’s still a little too early for lunch, but it’s close enough that he doesn’t bother trying to go back to sleep. Voices drift in from the front lounge, but the back is quiet, and Alex wants to be alone. He grabs a notebook, even if he doesn’t particularly feel like writing, but when he slides the back door open he’s surprised to find someone curled up on the couch, legs tucked close so he can fit and eyes closed in fitful sleep.

Jack’s face looks pale and tired, age lines a bit more prominent than typical. His brow is furrowed just slightly, and Alex wonders what he’s dreaming about. He wonders how long it took him to fall asleep after Alex left yesterday. He wonders if he would’ve slept better if Alex had stayed.

Alex wants to curl up next to him, rearrange them both until he can wrap his arms around Jack and tuck his face into his neck, but that’s not something he’s allowed to do. There are lines that can’t be crossed, and he’s the one that drew them.

Quiet footsteps approach, and Alex doesn’t have to turn to know that it’s Rian, all too accustomed to the footfalls and breathing patterns of all of his bandmates after so long with them.

“Alex,” Rian says. He tilts his head to let him know he heard, but he can’t look away from the bruise on Jack’s neck, peeking out from the collar of his shirt. Alex always tries to leave them lower, but there’s a vicious sort of satisfaction in marking Jack for everyone to see, claiming him as his own.

But Jack isn’t, not in title at least. That’s not how they work, even if Alex knows that Jack doesn’t really sleep with anyone else, even if Alex has seen those unspoken words in Jack’s eyes every time he looks at him.

“Alex,” Rian says again. “You have to stop jerking him around. This has gone on long enough.”

Alex sighs and leans against the doorframe. The bus starts up again, and Jack shifts, but doesn’t wake up. He must not have slept at all last night, and Alex grasps for a way to justify what he’s doing to him.

“He keeps asking for it. I told him we should stop yesterday and he told me not to.”

“He keeps asking for it because he’s in love with you. This isn’t fair.”

Alex closes his eyes. Everyone knows that what Rian is saying is true, but they rarely bring it up. It’s one of those given facts of the universe that doesn’t need to be mentioned: water is wet, the sky is blue, Jack is in love with him.

Alex loves him too. Obviously, he does, but it’s not the same. Jack’s love is all-encompassing, a reckless type of adoration that can be neither contained nor controlled. He drowns in it. Alex put his own feelings in a box and taught himself to swim.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. He knows that the arrangement isn’t sustainable. Honestly, he’s surprised that it lasted this long, but the alternative is learning how to live without it.

“Either break it off so he can finally move on, or stop being so  _ fucking stubborn _ and properly date him.”

“You know it’s not that simple,” Alex snaps. They’ve been over this before, rehashing the same arguments every tour while disapproval rolls off Rian in condescending waves.

The fact of the matter is that they wouldn’t work as a couple. Jack is so exuberant and full of life, and he needs to constantly be reaching for new stimuli. At this point, Alex feels like he can’t catch up. It’s exhilarating, to always be on his toes with him, but Alex needs to know that he’ll be able to catch his breath. He wants his farm, and the settled peace that he feels there, not strobe lights and the bustle of a city. Jack would be miserable in his world, and this is something he’s accepted, even if he’s spent a good deal of time wondering what Jack would look like with the dawn light from the window of his master bedroom dancing over him.

Jack once stopped by the farm to visit, meeting the goats and going for a horseback ride, and Alex’s dreams for the next few weeks were filled with visions of quiet breakfasts together, evenings tossing popcorn to each other on the couch instead of watching a movie, and nights where neither of them sleep, too busy wrapped up in each other. He’s imagined Jack’s laugh filling up every corner of property, making it feel smaller and less lonely. At the same time, though, it’s a pipe dream. He can never fully picture what it would be like, his idea of Jack clashing horribly with what Alex had always thought his long-term partner would be like.

He’s too old for this. He needs something comfortable and well-worn, and Jack couldn’t even kiss him back last night. They know each other inside and out, but that just means that Alex has been able to catalogue all of the little things that would add up to make them fall apart.

“We wouldn’t be good for each other,” he says. It sounds miserable and pathetic even to his own ears.

“You’re not good for each other now,” Rian says, gentler. “Not like this.”

“I can’t--I don’t know how to go back to just being friends.”

“So be boyfriends instead. Figure out what that means to both of you beyond just the sex.”

“I wouldn’t be able to give him what he wants,” Alex says.

“Let him tell you that instead of deciding it for yourself,” Rian says. “You’re giving him dirt. He deserves more than you making the decision that what you’re putting him through now is better than actually taking a risk with a man who fucking loves you.”

“If it falls apart, it’s going to be disastrous. It’ll destroy the band, our friendship, everything. I can’t lose that. I can’t do it.”

Rian sighs heavily.

“Alex, you’re one of my best friends, but sometimes you can be a really shitty person.”

Rian clasps his shoulder, and it feels like he’s bestowing the weight of the world on him with the way Alex’s feet sink into the floor. He wanders towards the front of the bus, and Alex watches Jack for a few moments longer before he steps inside the lounge and slides the door closed. When he turns back, Jack is blinking up at him, eyes fuzzy in the way they get when he loses a contact and is still trying to make them focus on things. Alex grabs the glasses on the side table and hands them to him, and Jack takes his time sitting up and putting them on.

“Why do you think you can’t give me what I want?” Jack asks, raking fingers through his hair in an attempt to style it. Alex suppresses the urge to reach forward and do it himself.

“You’re in love with me,” Alex says, and he doesn’t miss the way that Jack flinches at those words. They probably land like a gunshot coming from Alex, but it almost feels good to acknowledge that to each other explicitly. It certainly is something they need to address at some point.

Alex takes a deep breath and prepares himself to say something he’s never managed to admit out loud.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Jack’s gaze snaps up, and Alex swallows.

It’s out there now. He’s said it. He feels lighter now that that truth isn’t just his to carry, but it filled the room with tension, Jack’s startled and confused expression doing nothing to mask the tsunami of emotions.

He didn’t know. Alex had always assumed that Jack was at least partially aware, especially with all of the times Alex accidentally slipped and voiced his true thoughts in the heat of the moment, calling him gorgeous or amazing with entirely too much fondness and sincerity in his voice. If anything, that kiss last night should’ve tipped him off.

“I don’t understand,” Jack says eventually, more uncertain than Alex has ever heard him. Jack is supposed to be confident and carefree, and Alex hates himself just a little bit more for reducing him to this.

“I love you,” Alex repeats, “but I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

Jack frowns.

“Why the fuck not?” he asks.

“Because it’s not that simple,” Alex says.

“Again, why the fuck not?” Jack says. “I love you, you apparently love me, that should be that, right?”

“We’re too different,” Alex says. Jack stares at him like he’s crazy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just--well, take our living arrangements, for example. You’re based in LA. You  _ love _ LA. I’m not about to ask you to move, but I’m not giving up the farm, either, and if we did this properly I wouldn’t be able to handle being apart that long.”

“So I’ll keep the LA house and visit the city a few times a year, but we’ll live at the farm! Alex, I want you more than I want to be in a stupid city. You don’t have to ask me to move, because I’d do it of my own volition.”

Alex shakes his head, sinking down onto the couch next to Jack.

“That’s not the only thing.”

“What else, then?” Jack asks, desperation cutting Alex open. He tries to reply, but the words get lodged in his throat, and now that he tries to think on it he doesn’t know if he can articulate the unease that fills his stomach every time he thinks about genuinely trying this with Jack.

“I just need to understand,” Jack says. “If you don’t want me like that, just say it. Telling me you love me and then saying I’m not allowed to do anything about it is cruel.”

Alex leans on his elbows, putting his head in his hands to try to get a moment of reprieve from Jack’s attention. He wasn’t planning on having this conversation today, and he doesn’t understand why he’s the only one who seems to realize that this is a big fucking deal that could have lasting repercussions on every aspect of their lives.

“You didn’t kiss me back.”

“What?” Jack asks. Alex moves his hands and stares resolutely ahead.

“You didn’t kiss me back last night.”

“The last one by the door?” Jack says slowly. “You mean the first kiss you’ve ever given me that wasn’t meant to leave a bruise? The one that took me by surprise and that I was trying to savor because you’re never going to fucking kiss me like that again?”

“Yeah,” Alex says eventually. It’s embarrassing when Jack says it like that, and heat rushes up to his cheeks. He thought he had this whole thing figured out, from their dynamic to what page they’re both on, and now Jack is shaking the foundations of it, leaving him off-balance. It’s not something that he’s used to with Jack, who is always so willing to carry whatever Alex gives him without question when it comes to the two of them.

“Do you want to try it again?” Jack asks.

“What?”

“The kiss,” Jack says. “Because if me not kissing back is what you’re worried about, we can fix that right now. It might be like a first kiss all over again, but I want to. Fuck, Alex, I want to kiss you like that all the time.”

Alex looks at him, and Jack stares back. He’s tapping a finger against his leg, a nervous tick, but he’s so incredibly sincere. Underneath all of the jokes, Jack is one of the most honest people Alex has ever met. He wears his emotions like tattoos, and Alex is well-versed in reading what the different lines of ink mean. It makes some things impossible to hide, and Alex has always been hyper-aware of what that might mean about how well Jack can read him as a result. He feels like a chronic liar, always attempting to cover his tracks.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Alex admits.

“I don’t want to, either,” Jack says. “We can’t go back to just having sex, though. Not now that I know you love me. I’d do anything for you, but I can’t do that, and I’d rather we give the love thing a try instead of squashing it before it starts.”

“I can’t let you go,” Alex says. He can’t stop, not like Jack needs. He wishes he could, but he’s too selfish for that.

“Then don’t,” Jack says desperately. “I’m not asking you to. Babe, you’re overthinking it and running yourself in circles.”

The pet name almost undoes him, igniting that wildfire inside him with how easily it slips out of Jack’s mouth in relation to him.

“Do you really think we can do it?” Alex asks, one last doubt keeping him from reaching forward and taking Jack’s hands in his, leaning in to kiss him the way Jack wants him to. It’s going to be a disaster, but it’s a disaster that Jack’s begging for, and Alex can give him this, right? Maybe they need to try and fail before they can both admit that “boyfriends” has never been the right title for them.

“We’ve survived this long, haven’t we?” Jack says. “I don’t think a mutually loving relationship is going to be the straw that breaks us.”

Alex takes one of Jack’s hands in his. It’s a little shaky, but Jack’s jitters about them are familiar. Alex had always chalked it up to being mostly eagerness about the sex, but it’s not. Maybe it’s just that Jack loves Alex.

Maybe it’s that Alex loves him back.

This is still a bad idea. It  _ has _ to be, or Alex has wasted years tormenting them both for nothing.

Still, maybe they can draw it out a little bit longer. Maybe Alex can be selfish and give Jack this.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“Really?” Jack asks.

“Yeah,” Alex says.

“You’re not going to get cold feet later?” Jack asks. Alex bites his lip and gives Jack some well-deserved honesty.

“I probably will, but you’ll be able to talk me out of my head again. You’re good at that.”

Jack nods. “Okay. I can do that.”

Alex exhales and shifts to face Jack more fully. Jack takes his own deep breath, then laughs a little.

“This is so fucking intimidating.”

“It’s just a kiss,” Alex says fondly, but he gets where Jack’s coming from. This is so much more.

“Sure, just a kiss,” Jack says, but there’s amusement with his nerves. They’re on the same page, this time.

When Jack leans in, Alex meets him halfway. Jack’s right: it does feel a little like a first kiss, unfamiliarity tangled with uncertainty alongside the knowledge that this is someone he really, really likes. Jack’s hands move to cradle his jaw, his hold sweet in a way not typically associated with Jack Barakat, and Alex melts into it, doing his own memorization of every sensation bleeding through him at this small piece of contact.

Maybe he isn’t as good at staying afloat in his feelings as he thought he was. Maybe drowning is okay, as long as he has Jack next to him in the water.

When they part, Alex leans just far enough away that he can see Jack’s eyes. There’s nothing but love there, and when Alex leans back in for another kiss, he realizes that something has slotted in place inside him. The wildfire coals have been doused, and it leaves him with an overwhelming sense of peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [allsassnoclass!](http://allsassnoclass.tumblr.com)


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